


Just Here for a Good Night

by saltnhalo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (just a little), Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bottom Dean, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff, Frat Boy Castiel, Fraternities & Sororities, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Team Dean's Red Ass, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-20 06:02:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11330001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltnhalo/pseuds/saltnhalo
Summary: In which Dean is looking to get laid at an Alpha Phi Alpha party, and sets his sights on Castiel, who's just trying to make sure that nothing bad happens on his watch.





	1. one night only

**Author's Note:**

> Because I felt like writing a fun little porny oneshot. I can't believe this ended up being 5k considering I started this only a few hours ago.
> 
> Edit: now betaed by the lovely [Makenna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepopeisdope/pseuds/thepopeisdope) who enjoyed Cas in a backwards baseball cap way too much.
> 
> Enjoy.

The music pumping out of the frat house gets louder with every step Dean takes along the sidewalk, and his grin only widens as he turns the corner and takes in the sight of masses of girls and guys, alphas, betas, and omegas alike, spilling out of the house and onto the lawn in all their drunken glory.

Dean Winchester came here tonight to get laid, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to have any trouble at all achieving this goal – especially dressed as he is. Practically poured into a pair of skintight black jeans that hug his ass and accentuate the bow of his legs, and dressed in a deep blue henley that fits snugly across his torso, he can see that he’s already getting a few interested glances from partygoers.

He throws them a smirk and a wink, though all of the people currently sprawled across the frat’s lawn look far too drunk to be anywhere near as good a fuck as Dean wants tonight. He breezes past them and up the stairs to the front door, the music and sounds of drunken revelry steadily getting louder.

Yeah, this is going to be a good night. Alpha Phi Alpha always throw the best parties – and surprisingly, the frat members are some of the coolest alphas on campus, not the types of creeps to try and lure in girls or omegas. Dean’s pretty confident that he’ll be able to find someone tonight.

He strolls in through the front door along with a few other latecomers, who are already pretty trashed, and takes a moment to assess his options. There are people _everywhere_ – in the hall, on the stairs, there’s even two girls sitting on the edge of a large potted plant pot by the entryway, making out. From the looks of things, the dance floor is his best bet, considering the throngs of people crowded into the spacious living room – which seems to be the source of the pounding music.

But first: alcohol.

Dean picks his way through the crowd, snickering at the pair who have tucked themselves into a corner and are sucking face like there’s no tomorrow, and eventually finds himself in the kitchen. It’s slightly quieter here than it was at the front of the house, but not by much. There’s a number of Alpha guys in the kitchen, joking around with each other and the partygoers as they pour shots from various bottles of alcohol and distribute them to those clustered around the counter.

Most of the Alpha guys are pretty cute, and Dean figures that if he can’t land anyone new tonight, he can always go upstairs with Benny again, who has a wonderfully thick cock and definitely knows how to use it. The alpha in question grins when he catches sight of Dean and ushers him over, snagging a bottle of tequila and pouring some out into a little plastic shot glass that he hands to Dean as soon as the omega gets close enough.

“Hey, _mon cher_ ,” he greets Dean, smirking at the omega and raising an eyebrow. “I take it you’re up to no good around here, lurking around and trying to seduce one of my Alpha Phi Alpha brothers?”

“You know it, Benny,” Dean throws back with a grin, raising the shot glass to his lips and tossing his head back to down it in one go. He pulls a face at the taste, but even after the unattractive grimace, he can still smell arousal curling through Benny’s scent. “Not tonight, big boy,” he teases, reaching for the bottle of tequila and pouring himself another shot. He leans his hip against the fridge and smirks at Benny’s slightly crestfallen expression. “You know I don’t like to ride the same knot twice, Benny.”

He examines the liquid in his shot glass, chewing thoughtfully on his bottom lip as he turns his gaze on the crowd. “I wonder if I can find someone hot for body shots,” he muses, and hears Benny chuckle beside him – the alpha isn’t the type to hold a grudge over a rejection.

“If you can get our president into bed we’d all be the more grateful,” Benny suggests, and Dean glances up at him. The man shrugs. “He’s been grumpy and anal about the party, trying to make sure everything runs smoothly after the fight at the last one where he had to throw people out. We don’t think he’s been laid in weeks, and it’d really help his disposition if he could finally get some tail.”

Dean’s nodding absentmindedly, half listening as he scans the crowd. He’s not really interested in a pity fuck for one of Benny’s friends, especially some guy who can’t even get himself laid. He stops short as his gaze falls on a man wearing an Alpha Phi Alpha cap turned backwards on his head, dressed in a shirt and jeans. He’s standing side-on to Dean as he pours shots for people and hands them out, his eyes roaming the crowd as if he’s making sure he doesn’t give too much to people who look close to their limit. In the slightly dim light, Dean can make out a flash of blue eyes as the alpha half-turns.

Forget the president. Dean wants _him_.

Apparently he says that out loud, because Benny follows his gaze and snorts, elbowing Dean gently in the side. “Him? Brotha’, you have a gift. That _is_ him. Castiel Novak, our president.”

Dean’s jaw drops. How the hell is a guy who looks like _that_ unable to get laid?

Dean tosses back the second shot and sets the small plastic cup aside, running a hand through his hair to spike it up. Beside him, Benny groans, a hint of frustration joining the arousal in his scent. “Listen, if Castiel doesn’t work out, you can always come find me, _mon cher_ ,” Benny tells him, unashamedly checking him out.

Dean simply throws him a wink before sauntering off, picking his way through the crowded kitchen until he reaches the alpha. Up close, the guy is even more gorgeous. A lock of dark hair flops out the front of the baseball cap, and the alpha has a jawline that Dean just wants to _lick_ (although that may be the tequila talking). He doesn't usually fuck the same alpha twice, but for this guy, he's pretty sure he'd make an exception.

Yeah, he’s definitely found the guy he wants in bed with him for tonight.

“Hey there,” he purrs, leaning in close to Castiel – who apparently hadn’t seen him there, because the next thing Dean knows, there are wide blue eyes locked with his, and the man is fumbling his grip on the bottle of vodka.

With surprisingly fast reflexes, considering he’s already had two shots, Dean’s hand shoots out to stop the bottle before it can fall to the floor, pinning it between his hand and Castiel’s. His fingers are brushing the alpha’s, and they’re pressed almost chest to chest. Castiel is slightly shorter than Dean, so he finds himself blinking down at the man in front of him. The air feels too warm, Dean can’t draw in a breath, and the scent of arousal is cloying – though who it belongs to, he’s not sure.

Someone wolf-whistles from across the kitchen – Benny, probably – and just like that, the spell is broken. Castiel retakes his grip on the bottle and steps back, putting some distance between them. His cheeks look a little flushed as he returns to pouring shots.

“I’m very sorry, I didn’t see you there,” the alpha tells Dean, and it’s a good thing that Cas is looking away from him right now, because the deep timbre of that gravelly voice has Dean biting back a moan. Holy _fuck_ , could this guy get any more perfect?

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean finally manages to get out, shooting a glare over his shoulder at Benny, who laughs before turning back to the girl he’s already chatting up. Fuckin’ cockblock, had to ruin the moment. “My name’s Dean,” he offers, leaning one hip against the counter and giving Castiel his best ‘come hither’ look.

When Castiel looks up, he seems to catch on to it right away, and shakes his head. “Pleasure to meet you, Dean.” His voice is wry, and he raises an eyebrow – though he can’t resist giving Dean one more lingering look. The arousal is still there, hanging around them in the air. Apparently nothing is going to come of it, though.

“I’m afraid, if you’re looking for a ‘lay’,” – and who the fuck even uses air quotes anymore? – “you’re looking at the wrong person. I have a responsibility to make sure this party runs smoothly. Best of luck.”

What?

It takes Dean a moment to process that he was just turned down, and he splutters indignantly for a moment. When he finally manages to get over the shock and come to his senses a little, he finds that Castiel is already weaving his way through the crowd and disappearing out of sight, another Alpha boy having taken his place with the bottle of vodka. Damn it.

But Dean Winchester isn’t one to give up easily.

 ~~~

After over half an hour of searching through the party (and, admittedly, quite a bit of dancing), Dean realizes that he needs to step outside for some fresh air. A group of people have set up a kegstand and a beer pong table in the backyard, and while they’re popular locations, it’s not as busy or as loud out here. It’s the perfect spot for Dean to catch his breath and wipe the thin layer of sweat from his skin. Having danced for a while, his henley is clinging to his torso, and when he runs his fingers through his hair, it stands up on its own. Definitely time for a break. He snags some water from a cooler on a nearby table – he’s a little buzzed right now, but he’s not looking to get sloppy drunk because sloppy drunk sex is the worst sex – and wanders over to the beer pong table.

And of course, who is leaning against the back fence, presiding over the events and keeping an eye on everything, but Castiel. He’s still wearing the hat, and Dean absently wonders if he even realizes it’s there.

Any hopes of sneaking up on the guy are dashed when Castiel turns his head and catches sight of Dean. Dean grins, whereas Cas simply looks resigned as Dean walks up to him and takes a spot beside him, leaning back against the fence.

They stand there in silence for a little while, Dean trying not to overtly check Cas out too much (and probably failing). Finally, the alpha breaks the silence. “What are you drinking?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at the red solo cup in Dean’s hand as if it’s a magical concoction of alcohol and bad decisions.

Dean snorts. “It’s water, for your information, Cas,” he tells the guy, to which Castiel looks mildly surprised. “Cas?” he asks, then his eyes narrow slightly in suspicion. “I don’t believe I told you my name.”

Oops. Caught. Dean gives a meek smile and a shrug, looking a little guilty. “Benny told me your name when I asked about you. He said that I should hook up with the Alpha Phi Alpha president, to which I said ‘fuck that’ and that I wanted to hook up with you instead.” Dean gives the alpha a slightly tipsy grin. “What a coincidence that you were the same person! Nice hat, by the way.” Castiel looks somewhat amused, but when Dean mentions the hat, his cheeks colour and his hand flies up to touch it.

“I forgot I was even wearing that,” he mutters, and Dean chuckles – his theory was correct.

“Don’t worry about it,” the omega replies with a shrug, leaning in closer to Cas. “I think it looks hot.” Castiel’s blush is even fiercer now, and Dean can definitely smell arousal emanating from the alpha along with the delicious honey and smoke scent that he just wants to bury his nose in.

Still, Castiel doesn’t look convinced by the whole 'hooking up' thing, and when Dean bites his bottom lip and flutters his lashes, he even goes so far as to give a mildly irritated growl. “Dean, I told you, I have a responsibility to ensure that this party encounters no mishaps, and that nobody is partaking in dangerous activities,” he reprimands, and _damn_ , hearing him speak like that should not be so sexy. He’s really going to need to up his game here, though.

“But –“ he begins, but Castiel is raising a hand to stop him, his blue eyes flashing. Dean snaps his mouth shut.

“I will not ask you again. Please find somebody else to chase after.”

And then he’s gone, striding off across the lawn and leaving a trail of arousal, frustration and irritation behind him.

Dean definitely watches his ass as he goes.

He’ll get him. Eventually.

 ~~~

When Dean next sees Castiel, things aren’t exactly… ideal, in terms of picking up the smoking hot alpha.

When he next sees Cas, Dean’s in the middle of the dance floor, grinding back against an alpha who has his hands on Dean’s waist, his hips moving with the thumping bass of the music. So sue him – he loves dancing, and if someone wants to dance with him, he’s not going to stop them. It’s only when they take that acceptance as an invitation for sex that things start to get problematic.

After his failure to even properly talk to Castiel, let alone get him into bed, Dean figured he may as well dance for a while and get a little more drunk in the hopes that it’ll give him the liquid courage that he needs to try and get Cas into bed with him.

Needless to say, when Castiel sees him pressed up against a strange alpha on the dance floor, their bodies moving and grinding to the beat, things get interesting.

Dean’s eyes lock with Castiel’s across the room, and he recognizes the expression of shock on the alpha’s face. Dean can’t help but grin and wink at the alpha, then makes a show of grinding back against the man he’s dancing with, head tipped back to bare his throat and lips parted in a moan.

When he next looks over, Castiel is pushing his way through the throng of people. As the alpha draws close, Dean gets a lungful of his scent and _fuck_ , the alpha is _furious_. Dean freezes on the spot, though the guy behind him keeps dancing, evidently having not yet seen the alpha advancing on them like an avenging angel.

The moment the guy behind him sees Castiel, his hands tighten defensively on Dean’s waist, as if he thinks Dean is his, but before Dean can growl his disapproval, Castiel is right up in the alpha’s space, with a threatening growl of his own rumbling deep in his chest.

That sound alone is enough to leave Dean slick – he’s not sure what that says about him.

The growl undoubtedly frightens the alpha he was dancing with, who doesn’t really have any cause to fight the furious Alpha Phi Alpha president for a random omega, so he’s more than happy to let Dean go and disappear into the crowd.

Dean barely opens his mouth to deliver a tipsy, smartass quip before there’s a hand fisting in the collar of his henley, and he finds himself being dragged off the dancefloor. Castiel is moving with purpose – what that purpose is, Dean has no idea – and he’s helpless to do anything but stumble after Castiel. Honestly, he’s a little worried that Cas is going to throw him out, but when they bypass the front door and Castiel leads them up the stairs to the second floor of living quarters, his eyes go wide.

Maybe he’ll get what he wanted after all.

They pass another Alpha Phi Alpha member on the second floor with his hand up a girl’s shirt, the two of them making out up against a wall, and Castiel smacks him upside the back of the head as they pass. “Get downstairs and keep an eye on things,” he growls, his tone brooking no argument. Dean bites back a small whimper, and the hint of a smirk he catches on Castiel’s lips tells him that the alpha definitely heard it.

Castiel pulls him into the room at the end of the hall, and Dean gets a moment or two to catch his breath and regain his bearings as Cas tugs the cap off his head and hangs it off the outside of the doorknob. When he closes the bedroom door and turns to face Dean, his hair is wild, and there’s a dark intensity in his blue eyes. Dean swallows, turned on beyond belief, and he knows that Cas knows when the alpha tilts his head and makes a show of scenting the air.

Dean is so _fucked_. And he can’t wait.

“Last chance to get out of here, little omega,” Castiel rumbles as he slowly crosses the distance between them, every step measured, calculated, precise. “But considering how you’ve acted tonight, I think you want to be here. Do you?”

He stops in front of Dean, barely a hair’s breadth between their chests. Dean can barely keep himself still as the alpha raises his hand – his fingertips trail over Dean’s cheekbones, then his fingers slide into Dean’s hair. Dean inhales sharply as Castiel tugs, tipping his head back a little and exposing his throat. His heart is hammering in his chest.

“Yes, Cas, please. _Please_.”

Dean's eyes widen as the words leave him, unbidden, because he's never pleaded for an alpha to fuck him before. He should be running from this room before he gets in over his head – should be going back downstairs and finding someone who isn't so beautiful and respectful and shy and dominant all at the same time.

But his legs won't carry him, because the truth is that he doesn't want to move.

And it seems that the confirmation was all the alpha wanted, because all of a sudden Cas’s lips are crushed against his, the man’s body pressing against Dean’s and hands pulling him close.

He hadn’t expected Cas to be so _dominant_ after their first conversation in the kitchen, and how surprised he’d been, but he starts to get an inkling as Cas’s tongue sweeps across the seam of his lips, demanding entrance that Dean is more than happy to give. Dean practically melts into the alpha’s embrace, winding his arms around Castiel’s neck and kissing the alpha with all he has.

It seems as if Cas doesn’t know where he wants to touch Dean first – his hands are roaming over the omega’s body, skating down his back, fingers hooking into the belt loops of his jeans to tug him closer. When Cas grabs two firm handfuls of Dean’s ass, he moans into the alpha’s mouth, hips bucking forwards. He’s painfully hard inside his jeans, and he can feel that Castiel is, too – and that he’s packing an impressive size. The denim-muted friction isn’t enough for him, though, and from the way that the alpha growls in frustration, Castiel shares his opinion.

When they break apart, Castiel is pink-cheeked and panting, and Dean is sure he looks similar. There’s still that promise and intensity in his gaze, and Dean shivers in anticipation as Cas opens his mouth.

“Strip.”

The order goes _straight_ to Dean’s cock, and he hurries to comply, bending down to tug off his shoes and socks. The plush carpet is soft beneath Dean’s bare feet, and he really wouldn’t mind being fucked on that, but right now the bed is his most preferred option. As he straightens back up and reaches for the hem of his henley, Cas speaks again.

“Slowly.”

Holy fuck, Castiel freaking Novak has to be the sexiest person he’s ever laid eyes on, let alone had sex with. This time, Dean doesn’t suppress his soft moan, and he smirks as Castiel’s eyes darken. Very slowly, he grips the hem of his shirt and eases it up over his head, trying not to be self-conscious of the tiny bit of pudge he has over his waistband. Cas is probably built like a Greek god, but Dean can’t let himself focus on that right now.

When he tosses the henley aside, Castiel’s gaze is fixed hungrily on Dean’s chest, raking over his torso, and his hands twitch as if he wants to reach out and touch the omega, but he restrains himself. Dean shoots him a smirk, feeling a little more confident in himself now. His fingers move to the button of his jeans, and he captures his bottom lip between his teeth as he pops it open with deft fingers, his gaze fixed on Cas. The jeans and boxers are very slowly shimmied down his legs, and he hears a sharp intake of breath from the alpha as he bares himself to Castiel's hungry gaze.

As soon as Dean is kicking his jeans off, Cas is toeing off his boots and surging across the distance between them, pushing Dean back onto the bed and crowding over him. Dean pulls him down by the collar of his shirt for a toe-curling kiss as Castiel’s hands smooth over his bare skin – his fingers tug distractedly at the buttons of the alpha’s shirt, and when they pull apart for breath, it’s hanging open, baring Cas’s chest to Dean.

While Dean is preoccupied with the tanned skin and muscles that have been bared to him, Castiel seems mesmerized by something else entirely. “You have so many freckles,” he mutters under his breath, his fingertips skimming across Dean’s collarbones. When he brushes lightly over Dean’s nipple, the omega gasps and tips his head back, drawing a groan from Castiel.

Cas’s thumb flicks lightly over the hardened nub, and then he’s dipping his head to lave his tongue over it and Dean gasps out a curse, bucking his hips up and moaning at the friction of Castiel’s jeans against his aching cock.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Dean growls, pushing insistently at the shirt until it’s hanging off the alpha’s shoulders. He came here to get _laid_ , damn it, not to be told about his freckles. Cas reprimands him with a graze of teeth to his nipple, and that shuts Dean right up, but he does take pity on the needy omega.

Dean will deny to his dying day that the sight of the alpha’s long, thick, uncut cock makes him drool just a little, but Castiel without clothes really is a sight to behold.

Suddenly, the Cas from before is back. “Onto your hands and knees, Dean.” His voice is a soft rumble, but it still holds an edge of steel to it, and he doesn’t have to be loud to communicate to Dean that he wants to be obeyed. Dean scrambles to roll over onto his stomach, pressing up onto his hands and knees. His cockiness is short lived, though; when he smirks at Castiel over his shoulder and wiggles his ass in the air, he receives a stinging smack to his right cheek for his effort. Dean bites out a gasp and rocks forwards, cheeks burning as fresh slick trickles from his hole. Behind him, Cas chuckles, smoothing his palms over Dean’s ass and spreading his cheeks.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathes, almost without thinking. Dean drops to his elbows and hangs his head, hiding his face, but Cas seems to be onto him. He smooths a hand along Dean’s spine and leans forwards to run his fingers through Dean’s hair. “You are, Dean. Truly. The most beautiful omega I’ve ever seen.”

Dean whimpers, and Castiel seems to get the message. “Okay, Dean,” he murmurs. He feels the bed shift, and then the next thing he knows, there are two fingers pressing into his hole and he’s moaning, long and low, into the pillow. Castiel swears under his breath as he starts scissoring his fingers, suddenly desperate to get inside Dean.

Canting his hips back into the fingers stretching him open only earns him another smack to his ass, Dean finds out, and he clenches around the fingers in his ass as he moans out the mix of pain and pleasure. Two fingers turn to three – Cas is stretching him properly, even if he is impatient – and soon enough, the alpha is withdrawing his fingers, wiping them on the covers and reaching over Dean for the nightstand.

Dean grasps his wrist with one hand, twisting to look the alpha in the eye. He must look completely wrecked – his hair a mess, a flush high on his cheekbones, lips kiss-swollen. “Please, Cas, I’m clean, I’m on birth control. Please just fuck me.”

Indecision and lust war behind Castiel’s eyes, and Dean really hopes that _lust_  wins out because he’s desperate to feel Cas inside him, to feel that knot properly as it splits him wide. Slowly, Castiel withdraws his arm, and Dean settles back down onto the mattress, widening his knees and dropping his head.

The head of Cas’s cock nudges at his hole, teasing over it and barely dipping in. Dean is shaking now, rivulets of slick running down his perineum, and he almost growls at the alpha to just _do it_ already. He came here to be fucked, damn it.

And with one smooth, long thrust, Castiel delivers.

He stretches Dean wide, his cock hot and thick inside Dean, and the omega moans desperately as he feels the alpha bottom out, balls nudging up against his ass. Even slick and open, the stretch of it takes him a moment or two to get used to. For a short while, the only sound in the room is their ragged panting, as Dean tries to adjust and Castiel tries not to move.

Finally, _finally_ , Dean shifts his hips, groaning as the alpha’s cock shifts inside him. “Fuck me, Cas,” he growls, giving the alpha a heated look over his shoulder and grinding his hips back against Cas’s. The alpha swears, closing his eyes for a second as his hands fly to Dean’s hips to still him. When they open, they’re steely and determined.

The alpha draws back slowly, until just the head of his cock is inside Dean, then slams forwards with enough force to push Dean down onto his elbows.

Dean has never been a screamer, but he’s pretty sure that this is the closest he’s ever come, as every hard thrust is punctuated by the slap of skin and the omega’s loud moans.

Every second stroke, the head of Cas’s cock slides over his prostate, making Dean clench down around him and cry out. The alpha’s hands are tight around his hips, pulling him back into every thrust, and Dean has absolutely no problem with it. He’s just along for the ride, at this point.

Castiel sets a hard and fast pace, giving Dean the into-the-mattress fucking he’d been seeking when he turned up to the party, but occasionally he just buries himself to the hilt inside Dean’s ass and grinds into the omega beneath him – when Dean tries to fuck himself on the alpha’s cock, one hand holds him in place while the other hand delivers a series of stinging slaps to Dean’s ass, each one making Dean clench around the thick cock inside him and cry out in pleasure.

“Like a fucking vice,” Castiel growls through a moan, as Dean tightens down around him. As soon as the muscles of Dean’s ass have loosened their grip, Castiel pulls out, drawing a whine from the limp omega he has sprawled across the bed. “Easy, gorgeous,” Dean hears him say as he thumbs at his rim, tugging gently at it for a second before gently tapping Dean’s pink ass. “Roll over.”

Dean does, because right now he’s a needy mess and would probably do anything to have the alpha’s cock back in him. When he meets Cas’s gaze, the alpha looks just as disheveled as Dean feels. Gentle hands hook Dean’s legs over the alpha’s shoulders, and when Cas pushes back in, he kisses Dean deeply, languidly. The pace is slower, more intimate than before, and Dean grasps desperately at Cas’s hair, shoulders, anything he can, as Castiel’s cock slides relentlessly over his prostate. When he comes untouched, spilling across his stomach with a punched out moan, it’s with Castiel gazing down at him with wide eyes. The alpha looks at him like he's something precious and unexpected, and Dean feels like he's drowning in that blue gaze, but he's desperate for it. Cas looks at him like nobody else ever has.

The thought should scare Dean, but it doesn't, and he pulls the alpha down by his hair for a soft kiss.

Close to his own orgasm now, Castiel’s thrusts speed up, his knot catching on Dean’s rim with every pass. Not long after, he comes with a groan muffled against Dean’s throat, his knot locking them together as he spills deep inside the omega. His hips rut a few more times before going still, and then the two are simply tangled together, sweaty and breathless.

“You really are amazing, Dean,” Castiel mumbles once he’s caught his breath again, propping himself up on one elbow to gaze down at Dean. When the omega tries to turn his head, cheeks pink, Castiel gently turns it back with his knuckles on Dean’s chin, pressing a soft kiss to Dean’s lips. “Truly. You are so beautiful.”

Dean feels like he’s under a microscope here, never one to be comfortable with another’s genuine praise, so he shifts uncomfortably. Eventually he has to admit, “You’re pretty great, too.” Because he is. Cas is the perfect mix of toppy as fuck and completely caring, with the best damn body he’s ever seen.

Gently, Castiel rolls them both over, so that Dean is lying atop his chest, and tugs the covers over them. There’s not much else they can do but wait the knot out and listen to the sounds of the party still thumping beneath them. The alpha winds his arms around Dean, runs his hands down his back, holds him close. Dean relaxes into it, tucking his head in against Cas’s neck. That’s why he feels, more than sees, the hint of nervousness in Castiel’s voice as the alpha speaks again, sometime later.

“Dean?” He asks – Dean nods to let him know that he hasn’t drifted off to sleep.

He feels Castiel swallow.

“Will you stay? And… And get breakfast with me tomorrow morning?”

Now _that_ is a more loaded question. Dean chews his bottom lip, thinking it over. He can feel Cas become gradually more tense beneath him – up until he replies with a soft, “Okay,” and then it all drains out of Castiel until they’re both loose-limbed, happiness permeating their combined scents.

Wrapped in Castiel’s arms, it doesn’t take Dean long to fall asleep. The alpha follows suit not much later, the two happily tangled together in a mess of limbs, and they stay that way until the sun comes up the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you [Foxymoley](http://foxymoley.tumblr.com) for the beautiful art of Cas!!


	2. ...and every night for the rest of our lives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I got this idea in my head and couldn't let it go. Thank Arya.

Come morning, Benny makes his way downstairs, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He’s lived in this house for so long that his feet carry him automatically to the kitchen without much thought needed from him, and he chuckles as he finds a small group of his Alpha Phi Alpha brothers already clustered there.

“Mornin’,” he greets them, and gets a mixed reply in return – some are quite chipper, having either gotten laid, gotten enough sleep, or not gotten completely smashed. The others, not so much – they hang around the kitchen in various degrees of misery, either hungover or, in Terry’s case (considering the way that he makes a grab for a glass of water and almost knocks it onto the floor) still drunk.

Benny falls firmly into the first category, having gotten both laid and not all that drunk, so he just grins as he makes his way over to the stove to help out with breakfast. It turns out that Ed is still complaining about how Castiel totally cockblocked him last night, just as he had been to everyone around him when he re-joined the party last night. He’s also cooking pancakes on the stove, so Benny can’t avoid his complaining as he pulls the carton of eggs closer and cracks a couple into the pan to fry.

“- so him and this fuckin’ omega just breeze past, and I’m totally almost at third base with that Melanie girl, and you know what he said to me?” Ed drops his voice into a poor imitation of Castiel’s gravely grumble as he flips the pancake over. “ _Get downstairs and keep an eye on things_. I swear, whoever fuckin’ died and made him president…”

Behind them, someone laughs. “Man, he went upstairs with Winchester, right? That omega might have been too much for him to handle. That guy’s a fuckin’ spitfire. Every alpha he’s ever slept with, he’s got their balls in his hand. No question who’s the boss there. That guy goes hunting for knots, not the other way around.”

 _He’s got a point there,_  Benny agrees silently as he keeps an eye on his eggs. His night with Dean had been wild, with the omega taking what he wanted and riding Benny until they were both exhausted. The next morning, he’d breezed out again, with the clothes he’d been wearing the night before and a satisfied grin on his face.

“I just hope he made the most of it, is all,” the guy continues; when Benny turns, he picks out Kyle as the speaker. The guy’s nice enough, but still pretty alpha. If Dean pulled that shit with him, the omega has some _serious_ balls. “Winchester only sleeps with an alpha once. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

 _Haven’t we all,_  Benny laments, using a spatula to slide his eggs out of the pan and onto a waiting plate, quickly replacing them with more. They sizzle on the hot pan.

The discussion returns to the party last night, with a little more talk of Dean, but mostly focusing on other conquests. Harry is retelling the story of how Zeddmore struck out earlier in the night with an amazingly hot beta, while the aforementioned alpha sulks by the fridge – he must fall into the category of ‘didn’t get laid’. Harry’s gesticulating wildly, miming how Ed spilt his drink all over the girl, when Castiel pads into the kitchen and a hush falls over the alphas gathered there.

The president of the fraternity looks as though he’s off in his own little world as he makes his way over to the fridge, where he barely notices Zeddmore glaring at him. All eyes are on Castiel and the unruly mess of his hair, the faint bruises along his throat, the goofy uptilt of his lips that Benny swears he’s never seen on the man before. Yeah, that’s the look of someone who spent the night with the one and only Dean Winchester. Something in Benny’s stomach sours. The lucky bastard.

It’s only when Castiel has fished out a carton of juice and is reaching for a glass that he notices the state of the kitchen – all the alphas are staring at him, and the only sound is the food sizzling away on the hot frypans over the stove.

His smile widens. “Morning, everyone. I hope you all had a good evening and that nothing too disastrous happened.”

Someone snorts. “Yeah, boss, it was all fine, even without you hovering and micromanaging. Did you manage to loosen up a little with Winchester?”

A knowing chuckle ripples around the kitchen – those who’ve slept with Dean know what the omega’s like, and those who haven’t can only imagine. Castiel’s only reaction, though, is a chuckle of his own, and his eyes take on a slightly dreamy, faraway quality.

“I did indeed. He’s just something else,” he murmurs as he pours himself a glass of orange juice, then leans one hip against the counter and sips at it. In the silence that ensues, no one is quite sure what to say, and that’s why, a few moments later, everyone hears it.

“Cas?”

It’s Dean’s voice, coming from the front of the house, and Benny raises his eyebrows in surprise. It’s not Dean’s MO to hang around the morning after, so when the omega pads into the kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of Castiel’s pajama pants half a minute later, the collective mouths of every alpha in the room drop open.

Benny can only gape, shocked, as Dean’s gaze falls on Castiel, and the two share a soft, intimate look. Dean crosses the kitchen and tucks himself in against Castiel’s side, snagging the glass of juice from the alpha’s hand with a grin as Castiel’s arm goes possessively around his waist. Even in the reasonably large kitchen, Dean smells of slick and come and freshly fucked omega, and when paired with the marks that litter his throat and torso, it’s enough to have every alpha in the kitchen practically green with envy.

Dean’s doesn’t seem to notice, though, and if he does, he just doesn’t care. He only has eyes for Castiel. The two share a private conversation in soft tones between Dean’s sips of orange juice – Castiel takes it back to finish off the dregs, and once it’s empty, the alpha pulls Dean in by his hips for a long, lingering kiss. The two seem to slot together almost perfectly, and Dean is pliant and submissive as one of Castiel’s hands slides into his hair.

Dean never reacted like that for Benny. He forces down the growl that threatens to bubble up and turns back to the stove, though his keen ears can still pick up the low, sleepy rumble of voices in the otherwise silent kitchen. He can’t make out Dean’s words, but Castiel’s – though soft – are clear enough, as is the amusement in them.

“We eat here, Dean. I doubt my frat brothers would appreciate us defiling the kitchen. Plus, I thought you wanted to go out for breakfast. You can’t have both, greedy.”

Castiel’s voice is gentle, but there’s a firmness behind the words that Benny knows Dean would usually balk at. As it is, though, he hears the omega murmur a cheeky response, and glances over his shoulder just in time to see Castiel take Dean by the hand and pull him out of the kitchen, the both of them grinning like idiots.

Benny turns back to the stove and scowls down at his eggs. _Whatever._  It’s not like it’ll last.

~~~

Benny is one of several cheering loudly for two of his best friends, as Castiel pulls Dean up out of the deep dip, and they finally disentangle. They’re both flushed and grinning, looking stunning in matching tuxedoes, and not even the priest seems to be able to fault the almost inappropriate celebratory kiss between the new husbands. Both Dean and Castiel’s eyes are shining with happiness, and Benny can’t believe that he ever felt jealous of the bond that the two share. It’s obvious that they were always meant to be together, that they’re soulmates.

It’s never been so obvious as now, the two gazing into each other’s eyes as if they’re the only ones in the world. Castiel takes Dean by the hand and pulls him down the aisle, picking their way up the petal-strewn carpet with wedding bands flashing in the afternoon sun, second only to the brightness of their smiles.

Benny has never been happier to be proven wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That really is the end of this little story! If you enjoyed this, leave a kudos or a comment, and you can find me on tumblr [here](http://saltnhalo.tumblr.com), or subscribe to me on ao3 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltnhalo) <3


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